


We'll Find a Way

by strongfartz



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Drake and josh au, Established Relationship, Family, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Profanity, Smoking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongfartz/pseuds/strongfartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine an AU where all the boyfriend's live together in a giant house.  Shenanigans will ensue, yes?  Imagine if they took on the roles of certain characters of Drake and Josh.  That's what this story is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Find a Way

“...You can’t be serious…”

Koujaku stared at the man before him in slack-jawed disbelief, his heart stuttering within his chest.  Out of all the things his father could have said, _anything_ would have been more acceptable than the proposal Mink gave.  Hell, Koujaku was more prepared for his father to say any of the worries his anxious mind clawed at his consciousness.  ‘ _Helena didn’t pay child support this month…  We got an eviction notice… I lost my job…_ ’  Any single one of those doomsday theories seemed more appropriate than… than... _that_.

The tension at the dinner table was tangible, bitter and sharp, filling Koujaku’s lungs with each staggered breath.  Koujaku’s shaking hand rested his wooden chopsticks against the cardboard plate.  His appetite was lost. The cheap Chinese take-out teased his nostrils; the warmth wafting from the plate alienating the tense chill of the atmosphere.  Koujaku raised his right hand and brushed back his navy side bangs, exhaling and slumping back in his chair.

Koujaku locked eyes with Mink across the table.  Mink’s expression was firm, gold eyes unwavering.  Mink’s eyebrows furrowed as he held Koujaku’s stare.  Mink continued to say nothing, expectant eyes probing the depths of Koujaku’s wide red eyes.  The Native American folded his large brown hands beneath his chin, leaving his utensils behind as well.

Koujaku was the first to break eye contact with his father, choosing instead to shift his focus to his younger half-brother.  Koujaku eyed Noiz to the left, adjusting his face slightly to get a good read of the German-Native American.  The strawberry blonde was looking everywhere else except the two other people around the table.  If Koujaku did not know better, he would be quick to call the freckled dweeb an insufferable apathetic asshole.  However, Koujaku noticed Noiz’s jittering legs as his left hand braced his left leg, muscles tight.  Noiz’s nimble fingers spun his fork in his right hand rapidly, almost dangerously so.  Beneath Noiz’s phlegmatic appearance, he was just as anxious about Mink’s proposal as Koujaku.

Koujaku turned back to his father.  Koujaku heaved a heavy sigh, sounding as if his very soul was burdened with the gravity of the situation.  The Japanese-Native American raked his mind for a response, the silence gnawing at his ears.

Mink had met a man.  This was not surprising to Koujaku or Noiz.  Mink has brought home men and women alike in the past ten years, from work, local bars… Whether they were just fucking or actually dating, Koujaku did not want to ask and neither did Noiz.  Nobody in this household pried each other of their personal affairs unless it affected the others negatively.  Small talk was issued occasionally.  The typical “how was your day” and “how are you” coupled with typical responses of “the same as the last” and “I’m fine.”  Not to say the small family did not care about each other, not in the least.  The general attitude is if you have a problem, speak up.  If you need to share an accomplishment, go ahead.  However, each person has their own needs and issues, and unless your daily life is that fucking important, keep it to yourself.  Tough love was the Lovell’s brand of compassion.  Simple as that.

Koujaku knew of the man Mink was seeing.  Saw the man briefly when Mink would leave for—what Koujaku now presumes as—dates.  This had been happening for roughly two years, with a great increase in the past few months.  In fact, it came to Koujaku as a surprise when Mink was home at all after work in the welding shop.  The two could not get enough of each other, apparently.

It was not the man—er, it was not Clear Koujaku had an issue with.  It was his son, Aoba Seragaki.  Koujaku and Aoba had been best friends growing up; they both went to the same elementary school together and their moms had been close friends as well.  The two had drifted apart during middle school and would rarely say more than passing greetings in high school.  Koujaku got into girls, drugs, and gang activities, cleaning up his act sophomore year and found sports as a “constructive outlet” (—the school counselor’s words).  Aoba bounced around from different recreational activities, trying to find himself during middle school and high school.  Aoba took judo, did some volleyball, even tried his hand at knitting and culinary arts.  Aoba would occasionally party, get into some fights, and mess around with girls.  Definitely not as much as Koujaku, though.  What set them apart were the paths they have chosen.  Koujaku, the star quarterback of their high school football team, did wrestling as well as track and field in the off season, practicing to become a hairdresser after high school.  Koujaku had a pack of fawning fangirls which he would happily appease their ravenous desires whenever possible.  Aoba, on the other hand, found his calling second semester of his freshman year of high school: drama.  Aoba did every and any role his instructor would allow him to do, favoring the tragedies over the comedies.  Acting was his natural gift, where talent and effort worked in harmony to transform Aoba into his roles.  Aoba had his fanbase as well, though he was oblivious to their overbearing affection from boys and girls alike.  Koujaku and Aoba are as different as night and day; the only person that keeps making their paths cross is Koujaku’s best friend and Aoba’s pal, Mizuki.  If it were not for Mizuki, Koujaku would probably be in a darker place.  If it were not for Mizuki, Koujaku and Aoba would not even glance in each other’s directions.

If it were not for _fucking_ Mizuki, Koujaku would never have realized his… his love for Aoba.  Granted, it is not Mizuki’s fault for Koujaku’s crush.  But goddamn, if it were not for Mizuki’s interest in every aspect of Koujaku’s life and a drunken evening, Koujaku probably would not be in his current predicament.  Nor would Koujaku even dream of mingling with Aoba outside a nod in the hallway until Mizuki decides to be the **_bestest friend ever_** whenever possible by forcing the two to interact out of courtesy.

That’s what Koujaku had a problem with.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Koujaku’s head snapped up to the low, rough voice that spoke, abruptly halting his mulling.  Mink’s eyes were locked onto Koujaku, the corners of Mink’s mouth tugged into a small frown.

“Well, what the fuck do you expect me to say!” Koujaku snapped automatically.  Koujaku winced at his own abrasive words, yet he did not regret them.  The news was definitely surprising.  Moving in with the Seragaki’s in the suburbs when school started just a month earlier?  If anything, the timing alone was stupid.  To top it all off, Mink wanted to be out of their own shitty house by Saturday.

Mink only grunted in response, lowering his gaze to the table.  Mink’s hands were clasped firmly under his chin; his jaw tight and the creases in his forehead were deeply set.  Koujaku could feel Noiz’s judging gaze on him, probably wondering what Koujaku would do next, but Koujaku ignored him, keeping his eyes on Mink.

Koujaku studied Mink, recalling the last few months and their effect on Mink.  Mink seemed a lot more… happier… lately.  Mink has not come home drunk in over a year.  Occasionally, Mink would even text both Koujaku and Noiz if he was not planning on coming home that evening.  Mink would even check up on them more often than usual.  It was… it was as if they were really a family.  Like Noiz and Koujaku were really Mink’s first priority, not his job or alcohol or whoever could sate his desires for the evening.  It was kinda… nice.  Yeah, nice.  If… if Clear Seragaki had that effect on Mink…

Mink raised his gaze to the two boys before him, taking in green eyes first, then red eyes second.  Koujaku stared back, his mind going blank trying to find the right words for this moment.

Koujaku sighed once again, his face visibly relaxing along with his body.  “Alright, fine…”  Koujaku said, a small smile tugging at his lips.  “I’m willing to move in with the Seragaki’s.”

Mink’s hands dropped to the table; his eyebrows raised.  Mink’s expression softened; his eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights as he held Koujaku’s warm gaze.  Mink’s lips twitched, a bemused smirk forming on his tan lips as he straightened in his chair.

“I expected more resistance from you, Koujaku,” Mink mused, his right hand curled and uncurled around his glass absentmindedly.  Mink’s eyes searched his son’s tentatively, unsure if he wanted to probe any farther into Koujaku’s unexpected kindness.

Koujaku opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, his confidence lost in the heat of confrontation.  Koujaku opted for a tight lipped noncommittal-grunt, darting his eyes towards Noiz.  Noiz had been staring at Koujaku, light green eyes judging his brother with each passing second.  Noiz’s eyes narrowed suddenly, challenging the eldest of the two to speak his mind.  The fluorescent light danced in Noiz’s eyes, taunting Koujaku’s bravery.  Noiz proceeded to lean back in his chair—whatever previously held anxiety about the situation pushed aside.  Noiz cocked his head toward Mink, a smirk pulling at Noiz’s lips as he returned Koujaku’s questioning look.

With newfound bravado approved by his half-brother, Koujaku turned back to Mink (who seemed to have caught the exchange between his sons, expectant eyes hungrily waiting).

“I changed my mind because I realized something… something I probably should’ve caught a while ago.”  Koujaku began, a blush flowering across his tan, scarred face contradicting his determined gaze.  “You’ve been happy for a while now.  It’s pretty obvious to me that Clear gives you more than what Noiz and I can offer combined.  You… you found love again… probably something more substantial than that…  I shouldn’t— _I can’t_ —come between you two because… because of my selfishness.”  Koujaku broke his father’s gaze, choosing to stare at the dark wood of the table as he thought about Aoba again.  “I want to move in with the Seragaki’s together, as a family.”  Koujaku looked up at Mink again, red eyes ferocious yet tender.

Mink’s eyebrows rose, wrinkling his weathered forehead in surprise.  Mink’s lips curled, his eyes so full of indescribable emotion as he truly saw Koujaku for who he is.  ‘ _What a fine young man you grew up to be, Koujaku…_ ’ Mink thought, stoically basking in the profound maturity of his son.  The dreadlocked man exchanged looks between Koujaku and Noiz.

“What about you?” Mink asked Noiz in a gruff voice, looking at Noiz with elation behind his stony features.

“‘What about me?’” Noiz parroted lowly, crossing his arms and looking impassively at the small family portrait across the table.  Noiz took a moment before he spoke, his narrowing gaze  never leaving the picture atop the small wooden cabinet.

“I’m just along for the ride, old timer,” Noiz smirked at this, as if laughing at his own words, his own fading memories.  “You don’t need approval from two teenage shitbags,” Noiz gestured to himself and Koujaku with his right hand.  “If anything, I owe you for a place to sleep and food to eat.  Go ahead and do whatever the fuck you wanna do.  I’ll pay you back in ten years, including interest.”  Noiz stabbed his fork at a dumpling, bringing it up to his lips, nibbling at the edges before aggressively shoving it into his mouth.

Mink huffed, something akin to a chuckle, eyeing Noiz deliberately.

“Glad we all could come to an agreement.”

 

* * *

 

Koujaku absently tossed a football in the air and caught it repeatedly.  He was splayed across his twin bed, repeating tonight’s dinner conversation over and over in his head like a broken record.  The football suddenly crashed against his chest with a hollow _thud_.  Koujaku grunted and turned his head weakly to his nightstand.  The red numbers glowed 11:05 p.m.  ' _Fuck..._ ' Koujaku thought, swinging his legs over his bedside and roughly getting up.  He stood up, picked up a pair of clean boxers as well as a pair of sweatpants, and existed his bedroom with heavy footsteps, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed towards the hallway bathroom.  Koujaku was not the least bit tired; however, he figured he could attempt at some shut eye by going through the motions of his nightly routine.

Koujaku did not bother to close the door all the way as he turned on the shower and shrugged out of his clothes, leaving them a crumpled mess pushed against the baseboards.  He gave into the hot caress of the shower, momentarily forgetting his purpose.  He moved mechanically, occasionally sighing as he thought about Aoba.  Eventually, Koujaku roughly twisted the water off and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying himself before slipping on his black boxers and maroon sweatpants that hung loosely from his hips.  He slipped the white towel around his neck and lifted his long, sleek hair above it for air drying.  Koujaku proceeded with his skin care routine, moving slowly and tiredly as he stared his reflection down in the mirror with a grimace.  Once finished, Koujaku paused before flossing his teeth, studying the reflection before him.  

Koujaku noticed an odd reflection of light from the mirror through the crack of the bathroom door.  Koujaku squinted against the bright fluorescent lights before realization smacked him across the face.

"Get in here, you evil lil' brat," Koujaku spat, narrowing his eyes at the crack in the door, bracing himself against the counter.

The strawberry blonde elbowed the door open casually, waltzing in, green eyes on red.

"'Sup, dickwad," Noiz said, leaning against the bathroom wall with his chin jutted out.

" _Ahondara_ ," Koujaku hissed to a smug Noiz, turning sharply, wet hair slapping against Koujaku’s face.

" _Leck mich am Arsch_ ," Noiz stuck his tongue out mockingly, the revealed piercing taunting Koujaku's fury.

“That fucking tears it—come here, asshole!” Koujaku lunges at Noiz, right fist ready to punch Noiz square in the jaw.  Noiz leans away quickly, but had no chance to escape; Koujaku hooked his arm around Noiz's neck and lifted him up in a chokehold.  Noiz squirmed in the tight hold, feet off of the ground, wincing at the small pressure he (rarely) could feel at the back of his neck.  Noiz grunted breathlessly, swinging his legs.  Koujaku felt something strangely cool and smooth against his bicep.

"What the—" Koujaku began, slightly loosening his grip around Noiz's neck.  " _—FUCK_!"  Koujaku dropped Noiz at the sudden sharp pain screaming from Koujaku's shin.  Noiz sputtered for air, hunched over, bracing himself against the countertop.

"What the fuck, dude?!" Koujaku's voice cracked as he massaged his shin tenderly.  "What the hell was that?!" Koujaku's voice remained loud as he glared daggers at Noiz's haggard form.

"Self... defense..." Noiz's heavy breathing loudly filled the small bathroom.

"Not that, you sack of shit.  That _abomination_ on the back of your neck!"  Koujaku reached out and ruffled up the back of Noiz's fluffy hair, finding four piercing studs at the base of his neck.

“Is your eyesight going along with your brain cells?  Maybe you should sit out the next football game,” Noiz smirked sardonically, turning to lock eyes with a fuming Koujaku.

“Whatever… Hold on—” Koujaku leaned a bit closer to Noiz, his hand pressing up Noiz’s soft hair.  “The piercings are infected.  Sit down on the toilet.”  Koujaku clucked his tongue, his hand leaving Noiz’s neck and ushering him to take a seat.  Noiz stared at Koujaku dumbfounded momentarily, blinking rapidly before he came to his senses.  Noiz put down the toilet lid as Koujaku turned, squatting down, opening a cabinet and assessing its contents.

"I swear, the next thing you're going to pierce is your fucking dick..." Koujaku mumbled absently, raking a hand through his bangs before reaching into the cabinet.  Unfortunately for Koujaku, he glanced back to Noiz who had a knowing, smug smirk plastered on his features.  "You're so goddamn _gross_ ," Koujaku scrunched his face, arms cradling a few items.  Noiz's smirk only grew into a "shit-eating grin" (as Koujaku dubbed Noiz's cocky smile).   "Then again, why am I not surprised..." Koujaku trailed off, elbowing the cabinet closed.

Koujaku stood, holding cotton balls, a large tube of saline solution, and a jar of antibiotic cream.  Noiz quirked an eyebrow from where he sat but said nothing as Koujaku placed the items at the edge of the counter and maneuvered towards Noiz.  The taller of the two began cleaning the infected piercings with the saline solution as the shorter sat in silence, staring at the towel rack in front of him.

“Do you think Helena knows about Dad?”

Koujaku froze, antibiotic cream in hand.  Koujaku almost missed the quiet, unsure voice coming from Noiz.  Koujaku’s heart skipped a beat, his fingers growing hot to the touch.  

“Probably…” Koujaku said, his voice soft and strained.  “They still have to talk to each other, whether Mink or Helena would like to or not.  I… I don’t think Helena cares what Father does with his life.”  The bathroom had been silent thus far; the conversation bringing the atmosphere of the room to a dead weight against the boys’ shoulders.  Noiz remained quiet, his hands curled into a death-grip hold on his jeans.

Helena is Noiz’s biological mother.  Helena gave birth to Noiz when Koujaku was five years old.  Helena had commitment issues, to say the least.  Mink and Helena never officially got married; however, Helena kept the ring “because Mink might as well give it to me since he had bought it already.”  Helena is a German-American beauty; average height, rosy complexion, long golden blonde hair, with—to put it bluntly—a _slammin’_ body (—a nice rack and thighs that could strangle a man).  Koujaku rarely sees her, but when he does, he swears Helena has not aged (and more importantly, manages to keep her hot body in shape after two children).  Noiz may have inherited her blondeness and distinctive German face, but he also inherited Helena’s many “charms.”  Helena has an aloof disposition with an alluring personality, which Noiz received along with Mink’s apathy and reticent behavior.  

Mink’s and Helena’s relationship did not work out; Koujaku had always thought the break up was for the best, even as a naive child.  The bickering between the two adults and the evasiveness Helena had at every problem she faced was not healthy.  Helena left Noiz, Koujaku, and Mink when Noiz was barely two years old.  Helena had already met another man by the time she left; he was richer, had more status, more power, and the captivating German heritage (and not to mention the looks) to match hers.  The two married quickly and had a child one year later, living happily in a gated community.  Fortunately for Mink, there was not much legal trouble with Helena.  Helena was happy to keep Noiz and Mink out of her life, willing to pay more than necessary with child support.  Helena is very callous towards the Lovell’s; however, she appears to be the perfect doting mother and wife to her current husband and Noiz’s German half-brother.  Noiz does not care about Helena, though he would be lying if he denied thinking about what life would be like if she was still with Mink or if there was any humanity left in that woman for her first born.  Maybe Noiz does care, just a tiny bit, but he would rather eat shit than admit any concern about Helena to _anyone_.

Koujaku thoughtfully played with Noiz’s hair, rubbing the antibiotic cream on Noiz’s neck with the other.  “You need a trim,” Koujaku stated in a hum, smearing the excess cream absently on the towel around his neck.  Noiz made no protest as Koujaku searched the drawers for a comb, spray bottle, and shears.  Koujaku tried his best to ignore the strained atmosphere between himself and Noiz’s silence as the elder deliberately snipped the younger’s hair.  Koujaku noticed Noiz’s knuckles turn white and tremble slightly, still holding the coarse fabric of his navy jeans.  Koujaku paused, staring at Noiz’s small hands, before returning to trimming slowly after the moment of hesitation.

“What about Ayane?”

Koujaku dropped his comb, which fell and clattered behind the toilet.  He quickly placed the shears on the countertop behind him, rubbing the back of his neck.  Koujaku grimaced, looking at Noiz, desperately wishing the strawberry blonde would look his way.  Noiz stared at the shower, avoiding the painful eye contact Koujaku desired as consolation.

Noiz knew it was a difficult subject for Koujaku, but curiosity kept getting the better of Noiz’s (minimal) tactfulness.

“I think… I think Mom would’ve been happy for Dad.  She might’ve been confused at first… but I would like to believe she was an understanding woman…” Koujaku whispered, his long fingers grazing Noiz’s soft, fluffy, damp hair.  Koujaku rubbed a cowlick at the back of Noiz’s head thoughtfully.  Noiz finally turned, looking fully at Koujaku, green sorrow on red suffering.

Ayane is… or was… Koujaku’s biological mother.  Ayane was every sense of the words “mother and wife” to Mink and Koujaku.  Ayane was kind, agreeable, nurturing, and always, always smiling.  She smiled from her heart, her heart always visible on her sleeve, her eyes enhancing all the love she gave to others with her presence.  Ayane was a slender, short woman, with striking red eyes and dark purple hair that framed her round face.  Her features were soft, complimenting her face with a button nose and small lips that curve when she spoke.  Ayane was the first generation of Japanese-Americans in her family and wore it proudly.  She was an honorable woman; proud of her husband and her first son.  They were her pride and joy as she struggled with opening her own small business in San Diego, California.  She struggled with working part time jobs on top of college, a newborn Koujaku making tension enough as it is maintaining her status as a student and keeping a loving relationship with her husband.  But Ayane made it _work_.  Eventually, she earned her business degree, proudly displaying all three of her accomplishments in one photograph, and worked aggressively to start a small business.  

One day, after two years of working to acquire funds, Ayane _finally_ managed to convince her last investor to make her dream a reality.  She was walking on _air_.  Ayane glided to her car, parked alone in an alleyway a few blocks away from the business meeting.  It was around 8:30 pm on that bitter, winter night.  Suddenly, she heard loud footsteps coming at her from different directions.  A group of questionable young men surrounded her, sporting royal blue and grey colors.  A stout, older man with a hardened stare and knuckle tattoos whispered something to a young, lanky man.  The stout man nudged him forward, keeping a vacant expression across his face.  The young man swaggered over to Ayane, looking down at her through half-lidded eyes.  Ayane gripped her purse tightly across her chest, fumbling for her keys in her pocket, finding them and pressing the large car key against her index finger with her thumb.  The young man sized her up, leaning on one foot as he looked her up and down.

The young man reeled back his fist, lunging forward, aiming at Ayane’s jaw.  She threw herself to the left, narrowly missing his fist, leaping forward and keying his eye, landing on his foot in the process. The lanky man grunted, stepping back and pushing the woman against the wall.  His eye and skin were torn; his face dismantled and rebuilt with pain and rage.  The man began pummeling Ayane.  Kicking, punching, scratching, beating.  Ayane tried pushing back, screaming, doing _everything_ in her power to stop the man.  She felt herself dying in the hands of someone she did not even know; the man’s posse watching the young man’s every move, ignoring her cries.  She felt terribly alone… her breaths coming shorter… her whole body felt hot… She remembered her husband, Mink, and her little boy, Koujaku, and their smiling faces.  Ayane smiled, the pain enveloping her as she whimpered, losing consciousness as she slid to the floor, the assault of kicks never stopping.

_‘You have your mother’s smile, you know...’ Mink looked down at his small son in a tiny tux that barely fit him.  Koujaku looked up at Mink, Mink’s dreads creating a curtain around his long face, pain carved in his features, making the young father look much older than he was, the widower that he now is.  A tear rolled down the man’s face, falling against his black leather shoes.  Koujaku peered down at the open casket atop the stepstool he stood on; Mom laid in the casket with her delicate hands folded across her stomach, a small smile molded on her features.  A smile that was not hers.  A smile created by the mortician to try and ease the pain resting within the man’s and the boy’s hearts.  Yet, it only seemed to deepen the wounds.  The mortician did his best to recover the marred mother’s features, but no one could replicate her radiant smile.  How could Koujaku have inherited a gift he took for granted?  A gift he could no longer see physically, only in his memories?_

“Are you done?”

Koujaku gasped, eyes bulging out and jumping back into the edge of the counter, cursing sharply.  Noiz was staring intently at Koujaku, waiting for a response.  Koujaku braced himself against the counter, reaching a shaking hand out to fluff up Noiz’s hair, refocusing his eyes to Noiz’s newly trimmed locks.

“Y-yeah...  Here, let me clean up the floor before you shower,”  Koujaku rubbed his back and squatted down, reopening the cabinet, picking up a dustpan and brush set.  Koujaku got on his knees and started to sweep as Noiz began to strip.  Finishing quickly, Koujaku dumped the hair trimmings into the wastebin near the cabinet, placed the dustpan and brush set inside the cabinet, kicking the cabinet shut as Noiz turned on the shower, back to Koujaku, with just his lime green boxer briefs on.  Koujaku grabbed his bunched up dirty laundry and started to leave.

“‘Night,” Koujaku said, opening the door.  Koujaku’s heart felt strange; he could not quite describe his feelings.  Nostalgic?  Sad?  Sentimental?  Whatever it was, it did not sit well with him.

“‘Night,” Noiz said monotonously, as if nothing has happened tonight at all.  Koujaku briefly heard the bathroom become quieter as the thunderous pellets of water targeting the acrylic tub was intercepted by Noiz’s body.

Koujaku closed the door, sighing loudly as he headed towards his room.  There was no way in hell he could sleep now, no matter how exhausted he felt.  The whole situation was all too surreal.  Koujaku walked in, tossing his clothes into his hamper beside the door.  He decided to smoke before going to bed to calm his nerves.  He found his pack easily inside the pockets of his jacket hanging on his desk chair along with a lighter.  Koujaku slipped on the jacket as an afterthought, already feeling the chill of the night after his shower.

Koujaku maneuvered out of his room, going downstairs with heavy footsteps echoing the empty house alongside the faint sound of rushing water from the bathroom.  The first thing Koujaku noticed walking downstairs was that the porch light was on, light finding its way past the heavy, closed dining room blinds.  He passed the dining table, the smell of Chinese takeout still permeating the air.  He headed towards the sliding doors, leading to a small porch outback.  Koujaku slipped on a pair of old, beat up moccasins, leaving only a similar, smaller pair behind.  The largest pair that normally sat closest to the door were gone.  Koujaku roughly jiggled the sliding glass door, pushing it open, stepping out, and shoving it closed after him.

Koujaku was immediately comforted by the heavy cigar smoke, a heady cinnamon scent bringing sweet nostalgia to Koujaku within the first whiff.  Koujaku breathed deeply, standing outside, letting the chill of the night whip his face as he let the sensations forget his troubles and truly let him feel _alive_.  Koujaku’s gaze drifted from the weed-filled dirt to the dull, faint starry-night sky.  His heart felt heavy; a nice, comfortable weight as his eyes slowly raked across the dark night sky.

“Take a seat, son.”

Mink’s baritone voice was low and quiet, a beckoning invitation Koujaku gladly accepted.  Mink was seated farthest from the doors, leaning back in his olive green patio chair with a leg resting atop the other as support; his classic position when he takes a smoke break.  A pedestal table with a dark-green translucent glass supported by a black metal base separated the two patio chairs that overlooked the lawn (or lack of).  On top of the table rested a black, square ashtray which Mink nudged towards the center of the table closer to the empty seat.  Alongside the ashtray was a chestnut wooden box, opened, revealing cigars similar to the one in Mink’s hand, a double-guillotine cutter placed inside the box’s lid, and a black lighter resting precariously close to the edge of the table.

Koujaku moved from where he stood, sitting down and comfortably reclining in the stiff patio chair, taking a moment to bask in this sweet, warm feeling he could not shake off before crossing his legs into a more comfortable position.  Koujaku drummed his fingers absently on the armrest as he drank in his surroundings.  He stopped abruptly, the urge to smoke rekindling within his lungs, and took out his pack of cigarettes and lighter.  Koujaku tamped the pack, rapping it against the table lightly.  He flipped the lid and shook out one, placing the pack on the table.  Koujaku rolled his thumb against the flint, a small flame erupting from his ruby red lighter.  He wrapped his lips around the filter, holding the flame to the tip.  Once lit, Koujaku placed the lighter on the table next to his pack and took a small, experimental drag, holding in the smoke briefly before breathing and exhaling.  Feeling more comfortable, Koujaku began taking longer drags, blowing the smoke from parted, dry lips, watching it mix in the night air with Mink’s.  A comfortable silence between a father and his son were all they could ask for at this moment.

Koujaku smoking with Mink was more or less of a regular occurrence for the two.  Mink was not too thrilled when he caught Koujaku smoking in the back yard by himself at the ripe age of 12 (to say the least), but considering the circumstances of their family, Mink would rather have Koujaku smoke and stay out of trouble than attempt to keep him under an unrealistic leash.  Mink could not keep a constant eye on him or Noiz with his work keeping the whole family fed and clothed.  Mink’s parenting style could best be described as “if my kid is not fucking up his future, then he can continue doing whatever he desires.”  While Mink could not go to every parent-teacher conference or be there for his kids for every milestone, he did try his damnedest to make sure they were on track for their high school diploma and a college degree.  He promised Ayane after she had got her degree that school would be his top priority for Koujaku, to have him on the right track from the start.  When Helena decided not to stick around (which she probably was never considered family to any of the Lovell’s), Mink made a promise… to his sons and to himself.  Teach his boys about life the only way he knew how—by experience—but to be there for them when they fall.  Be the father Mink wished he had and give Noiz and Koujaku the opportunity to have the dreams Ayane had.  And, for the love of God, do not allow them to take the easy way out like Helena does.

Koujaku stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, exhaling deeply.  The cigarette and cigar smoke always had a strange, pungent smell together.  However, Koujaku learned to love the foulness.  This was his and Mink’s pastime.  While Koujaku had taught Noiz how to smoke, Noiz quickly declined any other opportunities to smoke with Mink and Koujaku.  Noiz disliked stuff that gets better over time, like coffee or alcohol.  (Noiz called it an “acquired taste.”  Koujaku called it bullshit.)  Smoking together was Mink’s and Koujaku’s thing, their special activity.  A ritual, if you will.  Silently smoking and enjoying the city’s night sky.  A few months ago, Mink mentioned going back to the reservation where he was from and enjoying a smoke out there under the countryside.  He said the stars were different out there.  More pure and breathtaking.  Koujaku did not say much at the time, but he silently hoped that Mink would actually take him there.  To learn and experience what Mink did when he was younger through Koujaku’s own eyes.

“Things are going to change for the better.  I have faith.”

Koujaku paused, Mink’s voice cutting through his musings, Koujaku’s hand hovering over his pack.  ‘ _Wait, when did I decide to smoke another…?_ ’ Koujaku thought.  He retracted and stared at Mink, who simply gazed stoically out into the night.  Mink took another long drag, letting the smoke slowly roll into the night sky from his parted lips.

“Do you honestly believe that?”  Koujaku asked in a small voice, jamming his hands into his pockets.  He felt himself growing numb.  The once friendly silence gnawed at his ears as agonizing moments passed before Mink finally spoke.

“I hope so… That’s all we can do, really.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week seemed to pass by Koujaku without any permanence.  His mind felt distant and muddled constantly.  Koujaku avoided Mizuki and Aoba at all costs, going as far as running the risk of coming late to classes by taking detours through hallways that had more couples sucking face than he could possibly manage on a normal day.  Koujaku chose to ignore any texts or calls he received unless it was from his dad or brother.  His week was filled with uncharacteristically late nights, inattentiveness, and simple replies.  After Wednesday afternoon, people finally got the hint that he just wanted to be left alone.  Koujaku was not sure if anyone could really understand what he was going through.  His crisis was not exactly… normal.

Koujaku could not wrap his mind around the idea of being brothers with Aoba.  Koujaku literally came to terms with his feelings for Aoba a few months ago.  The football player even told Mizuki in a text three weeks earlier “you know, i think i became a little more queer than originally planned…” (to which the _oh-so-helpful_ Mizuki replied with “dont we all?? lmao”.)  Whatever fantasies he had must be thrown under the rug now.  No, the fantasies must be crumpled up, burned, and thrown deep into the Pacific ocean _to never resurface **ever**_ again.  Koujaku and Aoba used to be good friends… and now…

Now what?

‘ _I guess that’s the million dollar question, huh?_ ’ Koujaku thought to himself, drumming his fingers on his forearm.  Koujaku looked about his room, now vacant and packed away in his suitcase with the moving boxes on his floor.  Koujaku had been up since four in the morning, helping with the packing, cleaning, and moving.  Koujaku checked his phone.  It was 8:17 a.m., almost time to leave.  Koujaku slipped his phone into the back pocket of his dark-washed jeans, gathered the last of his things, and headed towards Mink’s pick-up truck outside.  On his way out, Koujaku placed his key ring on the counter, as Mink had instructed the night before.  Koujaku noticed Noiz’s lime green key already on the counter, seemingly misplaced in the empty kitchen.  Koujaku could hear Mink loudly going through the cabinets of the empty house on the second floor.  Koujaku’s grip tightened on the cardboard box, gritting his teeth as he walked hurriedly towards the dark blue truck outside.  Koujaku dropped his things into the bed of the truck, not giving two shits at this point.  He just wanted to get this day over with.  Koujaku went around the truck with long strides, climbing inside the passenger side of the truck and slamming the door once inside.  Koujaku heard Noiz cluck his tongue over the muffled sounds of his video game, which Koujaku quickly recognized as the one Noiz has been obsessed with since middle school: Rhyme, an online fighting game that was as stupid and pointless as many other video games on the market (as Koujaku had griped about numerous times).

“Chill out, Drama Queen.  The show hasn’t even started yet.”

“Fuck off, brat.”

Koujaku heard a satisfied snort escape Noiz, alongside the increasing volume of sound effects coming from Noiz’s handheld game (which Noiz added to Koujaku’s annoyance for good measure).  Koujaku glanced at the rearview mirror, mumbling “piece of shit” under his breath at Noiz’s knowingly smug smirk.  Koujaku irritatedly shoved his earbuds into his ears and cranked up his JRock, loud enough to drown out Noiz but not stupidly loud that the music would blow out his eardrums.  Koujaku turned his mind off as he rocked out quietly to himself, banging his head to Miyavi’s guitar solos.

Koujaku jumped in his seat as he heard the driver’s side door open and close loudly.  Koujaku yanked out an earbud as he heard Noiz turn his game on silent, both boys watching Mink’s every more with quiet anticipation.  Koujaku glanced at the dashboard clock.  8:30 a.m.  Right on time.

“You boys ready?”  Mink said, turning in his seat to get a view of both his sons.

“Yeah,” Koujaku and Noiz said simultaneously without skipping a beat.

Mink grunted in acknowledgement, turning in the driver’s seat to face forward again, buckling his seatbelt in an automatic, swift movement.  The half-brothers took this as their cue to buckle their own seatbelts, the clicks being heard one right after the other.  Mink started the truck roughly and sped out of the cul-de-sac, leaving their pasts behind them.  Koujaku could not help but glance back at his old home through the rear view mirror.  That was the only home he ever knew.  There were a lot of new beginnings to be made, whether he was prepared or not.

 

* * *

 

Koujaku could not believe what he was seeing.  It was like a whole new world in this part of San Diego.  The Seragaki’s apparently lived in a gated community called “Platinum Jail.”  If anything, the name itself was _completely_ misleading.  Everything about this place was pristine.  People were outside and _happy_.  No one looked afraid to be alone.  Neighbors appeared to be having _friendly_ conversations.  It was nothing like the Midorijima district that the Lovell’s resided in.  Koujaku felt like an outsider.  These people had hope and a bright future ahead of them.  How could he ever call this place his home?  How could he call these people his neighbors?  How could he ever… become one of them?

Koujaku saw a moving truck— _their_ moving truck—outside of a very large two story house.  ‘ _No way..._ ’ Koujaku thought as Mink steadily approached the picture-perfect home settled neatly between two other beautiful homes.  The house was goddamn _huge_ —white pillars, champagne exterior with matching warm-toned bricks, perfectly mowed dark green grass along with exquisite landscaping.  The damn house looked like it belonged to a senator with kids going to private school and a stay-at-home mom, not the Seragaki’s.

As if on cue, three people exited the tall, white double doors of the Seragaki’s as Mink parked in the driveway next to the moving truck.  Koujaku immediately recognized Aoba, took a few moments before recognizing Clear, and was shocked to see a third man—no, _teenager_ —trailing behind.  Clear walked briskly towards the car, excitement and happiness spilling from him with each stride.  He wore a white button up with two buttons undone at the neck and grey slacks that hung loosely at his hips with a black leather belt that desperately kept his pants from falling with each movement.  Clear’s smile broadened when he saw Mink slide out of the truck (which Koujaku did not think it was possible) and embraced his father tightly.  Koujaku noticed light burn scars flowering across Clear’s skin and two small moles doting his chin from Koujaku’s front row seat in the truck.  Aoba was following Clear but a few paces behind and stood near the junction of the driveway and walkway.  Aoba was all smiles as well, watching the two men hug in his blue plaid pajama bottoms, white t-shirt, and… yellow socks.   _Piss_ yellow socks.  Koujaku scrunched his nose momentarily before switching focus to the only guy he could not remember seeing… like, ever. The other boy lingered by the entryway in a black silk pajama set, a striking contrast to his milky white skin.  His black hair was cut short in a perfectly symmetrical bob, ending at his chin.  He had bangs that swept across his face, framing his equally dark, appearingly pupilless black eyes that watched the scene happen in front of him with little amusement.  Just a small smile graced his vacant face.  The whole situation was weird; Koujaku could not have imagined this scene during the past week even if he _tried_.

Koujaku turned in his seat to look at Noiz, locking eyes with his brother, who simply shrugged after a long moment, opening the door with force, and jumped out of the truck.  Koujaku groaned, squeezing his eyes shut before opening the passenger side door and sliding out of the truck as well.  He walked around the truck slowly, deliberately not making any eye contact with the others crowded around.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw black moving closer.  Koujaku made the mistake of getting a better view of the movement; he raised his head to find black eyes boring into red.  Koujaku felt entranced; a trapped wolf in the headlights.  The boy’s eyes seemed to reflect Koujaku like dull, soulless mirrors.  Koujaku wet his lips slowly, narrowing his eyes as the other held his gaze.

“Ah~!  This is so exciting!” Clear exclaimed happily, breaking his embrace with Mink to cling to the larger man’s hips instead, nuzzling into Mink’s shoulder.  Mink wrapped his arm around Clear’s shoulder, creating a little nest for the smaller man.  Koujaku freed himself from the boy’s captivating stare, snapping his head towards Clear.  “I can’t wait to be a big, happy family.  We should celebrate!  After all the unpacking, of course.”  Mink lowered his head to press his lips to the crown of Clear’s head.  Clear smiled sweetly at the affection, looking around at the teenage boys that surrounded him.  Koujaku noticed the other boy standing a foot behind Aoba who seemed disinterested, constantly picking at the hem of his pajamas and looking towards the street, as if he would rather be anywhere else but here.  “I think we’re all kinda cute together!  A bunch of step brothers and two dads. Heh heh~!”  Clear chuckled, resting his head against Mink’s shoulder.

‘ _Oh my god… **Brothers...**_ ’ Koujaku thought, staring wordlessly ahead of him.  The words felt like a giant ice block just smashed against his body.  Koujaku’s eyes flickered nervously around the group.  Stopping, suddenly, noticing Aoba staring directly at him with a sly, crooked grin.

‘ _God.  No.  Please… No, stop.  No... ! **NO!**_ ’

Aoba opened his arms widely, his grin growing, crinkling his eyes as he welcomed Koujaku silently.

‘ _Nononononononononononononononononono—_ ’

Aoba opened his mouth, gasping in air, his pearly white teeth mocking Koujaku—

‘ _FOR FUCK’S SAKE, **NO** —!_’

And yelled, “ ** _HUG ME, BROTHA!_** ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to the intro song of Drake and Josh, which is "Found A Way" by Drake Bell. There are other references to the TV show littered throughout this fanfiction, too.
> 
> My tumblr is [@strongfartz](http://strongfartz.tumblr.com). You can also find me on twitter [@strongfartz](http://twitter.com/strongfartz).


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